


No Remedy for Memory

by nightanddaze



Category: Captain America (Movies)
Genre: Fantasy Fulfillment, First Time, M/M, Oral Sex, Outdoor Sex, Reunion Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-06
Updated: 2014-10-06
Packaged: 2018-02-20 04:10:34
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,493
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2414462
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nightanddaze/pseuds/nightanddaze
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's so dark Steve can't see how Bucky has changed.</p>
            </blockquote>





	No Remedy for Memory

**Author's Note:**

  * For [fosfomifira](https://archiveofourown.org/users/fosfomifira/gifts).



> Written for [secretagentofcaos](http://secretagentofcaos.tumblr.com/)'s prompt: _...dark London alleys on moonless nights, so dark no one could see Bucky on his knees for Steve, so dark Steve can pretend he can’t see how Bucky has changed_. Title from Lana Del Ray's "Dark Paradise."

There’s no moon tonight. Oh, there’s a space for it, but the moon is gone, too new for even Steve to see. He keeps looking up for it, eyes stuck in the hole in the clouds, because the other option is to look down, to where Bucky is breathing hotly against his belly. 

They came out here, to the alley, because Bucky's forehead was sweaty and he flinched every time the piano man hit a wrong note. Steve thought he understood - the bar was hot and crowded and Bucky'd been through a lot. Maybe some fresh air was the thing, some quiet.

And it is cool out here, Steve's tongue and teeth cold in his open mouth. It’s quiet too, startlingly so, for a place like London. He can hear Bucky breathing, even though he's not panting or gasping, like Steve used to when he got all worked up. 

It's dark though. So dark. There are lights, but they seem so far away. So far there's not much of a way that anyone would see them, if they looked into the alley. If the moon was here, if the lights were closer, then they might. But not like this.

Bucky's breath, dampening a buttonhole on Steve's shirt, stops. When he leans away, Steve's stomach chills. Maybe Bucky will get up now, done praying or whatever he was doing. Steve isn't sure. Bucky had just gone down on his knees when they'd gotten away from the door and buried his face in Steve's shirt, his breathing quiet and fast. Steve had started looking for the moon then, desperate for some guidance.

"Steve," Bucky whispers, and Steve closes his mouth and looks down. 

It's so dark Steve can only see Bucky's face, his eyes and his wide mouth. Even his hair and collar blend into the night. He's not smiling and his eyes are shining.

"What?" Steve whispers back, trying to sound normal, like he knows what to do. 

Bucky kneels down, so he can't press his face to Steve's shirt anymore. He has to tip his chin up to talk. 

"Have you," he looks down at his own hands, somewhere down there, and then up again. "Did you ever think about it?"

Something in his voice sends a little chill through Steve's guts. Think about what? You going off to war, you being gone forever, you being dead on a table?

"Think about what?" Steve whispers. 

Bucky's hands move, in the dark, and find Steve's knees, the flats of his thighs. He holds Steve there and then he shuffles in, burying his face in the front of Steve's trousers, his breath hot and quick again.

Steve's thighs go stiff in the cup of Bucky's hands, and his stomach turns so fast it hurts. He looks around frantically, at the gaping empty mouth of the alley, the far-off lights, the cloudy-soft sky. He can't look down at Bucky. He's getting hard though, quickly, because he does now.

When he doesn't answer, Bucky's hands move an inch up Steve's thighs, squeezing lightly. He turns his face in Steve's crotch a little, not quite a nuzzle, and then he opens his mouth, giving Steve a sucking kiss through his trousers.

No one's ever - Steve's never - it feels so _much_ he has to close his eyes and let a moaning breath out. He can feel the warmth of Bucky's mouth, and his thighs are trembling.

"Buck—" he says, and he doesn't sound like he's in the same universe as normal.

Bucky's mouth lifts off just enough to say, "I did."

Steve closes his mouth as tight as his eyes.

Bucky's left hand skims up Steve's thigh, his hip, fingers hooking just under his waistline. His mouth stays where it is, kissing the thickening line of cock.

"I thought about it all the time," he whispers. "Oh, sure," he laughs drily, "I thought about what I wanted to eat, same as what we used to when we were starving, but I thought about _this_ much more." When he says _this_ , he cups Steve's cock in his left hand.

Steve can't help himself. His hips jerk forward. 

"I was sure I was dead meat," Bucky whispers, "so what was the fucking harm? If you're gonna die, you stop caring so much about being bent." He's rubbing Steve's dick now, slow short strokes, each one heating Steve up more and more. 

"I wanted it so bad, and I was gonna die without ever even seein' you again, so I just. All the time, Steve. I thought about your dick all the time. You didn't look like this, you looked like _you_ , but I wanted it and it's all I had and then you fucking walked in and I—" he breaks off, pressing his mouth roughly to Steve, sucking, his tongue scraping roughly over the fabric.

Steve moans again. His body is flashing hot and he doesn't know where his hands are. Lost somewhere in the dark.

"Steve," Bucky says, his voice shaky. "I never even touched myself. Couldn’t. I just thought about it, so you gotta let me, gotta let me—” When he presses close, his whole face is hot, damp.

Steve's crotch throbs under that heat and it feels like his heart is beating off-tempo. He swallows. 

"I don't know what to do," he whispers. He's only ever used hands, his own hands.

Bucky pets his dick, slides his hand down so he can cup Steve's balls.

"I do," he says. "I thought about it. I know what to do."

Steve, still with his eyes closed, nods. 

Bucky kneels up again, gravel scraping, and undoes Steve's belt with both hands. Neither one of them shakes. Steve can feel how steady they are when they part his fly. Bucky kisses his bare belly, lower down than where he pressed his face before. It's just a kiss, but Steve's cock twitches in his underwear.

Bucky must feel it, because he backs up enough to take a look. He inhales sharply, creating a cool spot, and then he kisses where the head of Steve's cock is, the wet spot.

It's just another kiss, a light touch, but Steve's whole body jerks and he reflexively grabs Bucky's left wrist, squeezing it, afraid he'll come. 

Bucky gasps against him, teeth glancing against Steve’s cock, and Steve remembers the bruises on Bucky’s wrist, his _wrists_ , where they shackled him. So he couldn’t touch himself, so he couldn’t get away. 

Steve drops Bucky’s wrist, anchors his hand in his own shirt. He has to remember his own strength. He can hurt people now. 

“Sorry,” he croaks. Bucky is the last person he’d want to hurt. He can’t even imagine it.

“No, no,” Bucky says, “it’s.” He stops talking to skin Steve’s trousers and underwear down his legs. The air is cold on Steve’s thighs, his ass, but Bucky’s already caught Steve’s cock in his hands and that tight grip is warm. Steve’s cock jerks in it, the head wetting itself again.

Somewhere down there in the darkness, Bucky groans helplessly and leans in to kiss Steve’s cock, the damp tip. Steve opens his mouth, and Bucky does too, his kiss spreading until the whole head is inside his mouth. It’s so hot, wet and smooth, and that must be Bucky’s tongue swiping over it, dotting the slit. Tasting him. Bucky groans again, and takes him deeper in his mouth, one sucking pull.

Steve can hear himself, his gasping breaths. He’s never felt anything like this, has thought about it, but he didn’t know it was like this. 

Bucky sucks him again, and his hands slide up Steve’s front, hands flat and then fisting in his shirt. 

He sucks and then pulls off to say, “Hold them, _hold them_.”

When Steve grabs his wrists, Bucky goes down on him again, deeper still. And when Steve squeezes him, fighting with his body, Bucky swallows his moan down, his mouth pulsing around Steve.

Steve whimpers. His fingers are locked around Bucky’s wrists and he’s trying so hard not to hold too tight. His hands shake when Bucky pulls off again to rub his lips over the shaft, lower than where his mouth has been yet.

“Don’t let go, Steve,” he whispers, “please.”

And then his mouth sinks down again and he’s really sucking this time, like he’s gonna get something he needs straight out of Steve. And Steve finally opens his eyes, seeing stars even though he’s not looking at the sky.

It’s too much. He’s sobbing, overwhelmed by all these new good feelings, and when he looks down, he can see Bucky’s hands twisting in his grip, not trying to escape, just feeling Steve holding him. Steve tries to see more, but there's no light and Bucky’s head is bent. So when he looks down further, he can’t even see that it’s Bucky at all. There’s just the deep, dark night and a wide mouth hungry for his cock.

**Author's Note:**

> My [tumblr](http://nightanddaze.tumblr.com/)!


End file.
